The Universal Language of Kindness: Life with a Gold Mining Family in Costa Rica
Sometimes, travel isn’t about the place at all. It’s about the people.
I was deep in the Osa Peninsula in Costa Rica, one of the most biodiverse and remote corners of the planet, on what started as a solo rainforest hike. I had expected wildlife, muddy trails, and a few howler monkeys. I didn’t expect to be invited into a family’s life.
Tucked along the trail was a small "two-story" home of a pair of gold mining families, modest and surrounded by thick jungle. When I met the families who lived there, we couldn’t speak more than a few words to each other. My Spanish was barely decent, but their English was the same. And yet, when you're with kind people, there is a shared understanding.
They didn’t just offer me a place to stay, they gave me their upstairs bedroom, a cool and comfortable space they’d clearly taken care to prepare. The house was humble but resourceful: a makeshift shower, a working toilet, running water pulled off in the middle of the rainforest. Their ingenuity was everywhere.
Every morning, I woke to the smell of fresh coffee, strong, dark, and made with a "chorreador", the traditional Costa Rican coffee sock. It's a simple cloth filter hung above a pot, but in their hands, it brewed something rich, earthy, and unforgettable.
They cooked over an open wood fire in an outdoor kitchen. Watching them prepare each dish, flipping plantains, tending to bubbling pots, adjusting wood under the flames, was like watching a dance they’d perfected over time. The food was incredible. Simple ingredients, cooked with skill and care, shared with someone who was a stranger just a day before.
They checked on me constantly. Smiles. Hand gestures. Little acts of care. It was obvious that they genuinely wanted me to feel at home. And I did.
This wasn’t just a stay. It was a reminder: you don’t need a common language to feel welcome. Hospitality, kindness, and warmth are universal. A smile can say more than a sentence ever could.
My time with this gold mining family left a mark. It reminded me that while landscapes and wildlife feed the photographer in me, it’s the people who fill the heart. In the most unexpected places, it’s the generosity of strangers, who become friends, that makes the most lasting part of the journey.
